


Keeper of Secrets

by Sithisis



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Bookstores, Coffee Shops, College, M/M, Raventrust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sithisis/pseuds/Sithisis
Summary: Khadgar visits a local bookstore with the mission to buy a specific and rare novel. However, upon his arrival, he discovers that someone has already bought it.Or, what happens when you mix a bookstore, coffee shop, AND college AU together?





	

It is a few weeks before the start of a new semester, and Khadgar, like any other college student, has to participate in the rush to get all of his textbooks. For the next few months, he will be taking a bunch of history courses. He is also one of the very lucky students who is able to have one elective course, and he chose a course on fantasy novels.

As much as Khadgar enjoys history, he knows that he enjoys reading about fantasy worlds even more. After skimming the syllabus of that particular course, he is even more excited, as he will get to pick a novel of his choosing to write a paper on.

As he walks along the aisles of his college’s bookstore, scanning for the textbooks needed for his courses, he thinks about visiting another bookstore after this to get the fantasy novel of his choice.

So preoccupied with his thoughts and excitement that he accidently bumps into someone, who promptly steadies him by the shoulder.

“Careful, there.”

Khadgar looks at the person who he bumped into. It is a man years his senior and carrying just as many books as Khadgar himself. He has raven hair with streaks of grey, golden eyes, and a smiling playing at his lips.

Khadgar takes a sharp breath before even realizing it.

“Sorry,” Khadgar says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Excited for a particular course, I assume?”

Khadgar smiles and tells the man about the fantasy novel course.

“I hear the professor of that course is a strange fellow,” the man comments.

“Then I guess we have some things in common,” Khadgar replies good-naturally. He isn’t one to judge someone who he’s never met before.

The man openly smiles this time, and before he leaves Khadgar to peruse the shelves, he says, “I’m glad that you’re excited for the course.”

Khadgar only grins as he continues to gather his textbooks. So there’s another person who is taking the same course as himself.

Khadgar couldn’t help but look forward to seeing the man again on the first day of class.

 

* * *

 

The fantasy novel that Khadgar chooses to read is _The Last Guardian_ , and it’s just a matter of finding it that is the problem.

He goes online to find out the inventory of it in a well-known bookstore, but to no avail. He goes to an online marketplace of sorts, yet the search is in vain. Finally, he simply searches for used bookstores nearby his college.

Luck is on his side as he hangs up the phone from a call that confirms the availability of the rare book.

Khadgar gently closes his laptop, goes to bed, and promises himself that he will visit the bookstore the first thing next morning.

 

* * *

 

When he arrives at the bookstore, he is greeted by the sleepy cashier by the name of Moroes at the counter. Khadgar simply nods his head in greeting as he walks down the aisles of used books.

Judging by how the store categorizes its books, the book is supposed to be nearby. It’s supposed to be _somewhere_ here.

Only it isn’t on the shelves at all.

Khadgar goes through the shelves once more before going to the front counter.

“Can you help me find a book? It’s _The Last Guardian_. I called in about it yesterday,” Khadgar says.

Moroes blinks sleepily before he realizes something. “Oh, my. I apologize,” he replies. “Someone just came in this morning and bought it. I thought that was you…”

Khadgar is surprised. Someone else bought the old fantasy novel? Someone else sniped it from under his nose? Who dares?!

His first reaction is annoyance, then it turns into something almost akin to rivalry as he theorizes that, perhaps, someone bought the book for the fantasy novel course. The chances are slim, of course, yet Khadgar couldn’t help but have a distinct feeling about it.

He leaves the bookstore and walks across the street towards his favourite coffee shop.

At least coffee wouldn’t be sold out so early in the morning.

 

* * *

 

The bell rings as he enters the coffee shop. The barista greets him with a knowing smile, and before he reaches the counter, his order has already been fulfilled.

“Thanks, Garona.”

“No worries, Khadgar,” she replied, watching as Khadgar begins walking to his usual spot, only to stop short.

“Although,” Garona continues, with an amused expression. “I wasn’t able to save your usual spot today.”

Khadgar only shakes his head as he continues walking towards his usual spot. The person occupying it is none other than the man he met yesterday.

Before Khadgar could greet him, however, the man pulls a chair out for him. “You have a rather peculiar choice of courses,” the man says. “And in coffee shops, apparently.”

“I’ve always loved the fantasy genre,” Khadgar replies, taking a seat and taking a sip of his drink. “And I’ve always been here.” He then looks the man in the eye and says, “It’s you who’s the outlier - taking my usual spot.”

The man takes a sip of his own drink and a bite of his freshly made pastry. Khadgar, meanwhile, cannot look away. The man looks very much at peace here, and if Khadgar isn’t a regular visitor, then the man might as well have always been seated at this table.

“Speaking of which,” the man says. “Have you chosen your novel yet?”

Khadgar hand goes to the back of his neck again, and he doesn’t miss the way the man’s eyes trail along the skin of his collarbone.

“I did, but someone already bought it before I even got the chance,” Khadgar admits.

“Ah. That’s unfortunate,” the man replies. “Is it a rare novel?”

“It’s pretty rare,” Khadgar sighs. “Took me hours to finally locate a copy.”

“Perhaps a more popular novel would do? I am sure many of your classmates will chose them so.”

“I’d rather not,” Khadgar says. He then corrects himself. “I mean - I mean no disrespect to the currently, popular books, but do think it’s all part of an elaborate marketing ploy sometimes… I just want to read this particular novel because it’s by my favourite author and part of my favourite series.”

The man nods in understanding before finishing up his pastry. He takes a final sip of his coffee before standing up and pushing his seat back in. “May I know the title of the novel?” he asks.

Khadgar’s heart skips a beat. The sunrays from the shop’s windows bathes the man in a breathtaking warmth. His raven hair has undertones of maroon, and his golden eyes seem to twinkle that much more. “I-It’s called _The Last Guardian_ ,” Khadgar sputters, hand rubbing the back of his neck again.

The man raises an eyebrow. “Intriguing choice,” he says. “I’ll see what I can do about it.”

Khadgar gets up from his seat, surprised by the generosity of the offer. “Oh - You really don’t have to! We don’t even know each other - I-I don’t even know you name!”

The man pauses for a moment. “Likewise,” he says, extending a hand. “I am Medivh. And you are?”

“Khadgar.”

“Well, Khadgar,” the man says. “It seems we’re now officially acquainted. I will let you know once I get another copy of _The Last Guardian_.”

Before Khadgar can ask how exactly Medivh would let him know, the man in question is already out the door.

 

* * *

 

The next time Khadgar sees Medivh, it is one week before the semester officially starts.

Medivh is sitting in Khadgar’s usual spot - or perhaps _their_ usual spot now - and on the table beside his pastry is an old book of some sort. After Khadgar gets his coffee from Garona and walks towards Medivh, he realizes that it’s _The Last Guardian_.

Khadgar is at lost for words as Medivh presents the book to him with a small smile.

“I… _Thank you_ ,” Khadgar manages to utter out.

“You’re most welcome, Khadgar,” Medivh replies, already biting into his pastry.

“How should I repay you?”

Medivh gently waves a dismissing hand. “Simply do well in the course, and that is all I can ask of you,” he replies.

“Oh?” Khadgar smiles. “Are you sure I can’t treat you to your daily coffee and pastry? Now that you’ve so conveniently taken my spot?”

Medivh hesitates before answering him. “Perhaps after you’ve attended the first lecture, and if you will still be interested.”

Khadgar furrows his eyebrows at this, but agrees. “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

A day before the fantasy novel lecture, Khadgar reads the first chapter of _The Last Guardian_ , and it is just as magnificent as he predicted it. He is more than excited to attend lecture and start on his paper after getting to know the precise requirements of it.

Medivh, of course, is still at their usual spot in the coffee shop most mornings. Garona tells Khadgar that Medivh has become a true frequent customer, despite being new to the city.

They discuss their interests, and it is with joy that Khadgar finds out that Medivh, very much like himself, enjoys the magical elements of fantasy novels. They talk about their favourites of the past and present, as well as what they hope to see in the genre’s future.

When it is time for Medivh to take his leave, Khadgar smiles brightly and says, “See you in class!”

 

* * *

 

The fantasy novel class takes place in an auditorium of sorts, with its dim lighting and many comfortable seats. It isn’t any different from Khadgar’s usual history classes, which take place in similar ‘lecture halls.’ He enjoys the aesthetic and warmth and coziness of it all, really. The professor is always on the stage, where his, her, or their voice is easily projected towards the students. The auditorium is certainly not a surprise to him.

However, what does surprise him is when the class quiets down and the professor enters the stage.

The professor is none other than Medivh.

 

* * *

 

The lecture begins, and Khadgar does his best to pay attention to what Medivh is saying. Medivh starts by talking about the course prerequisites and other administrative details, then he goes over the syllabus. Khadgar, already having read the syllabus, glances at it again. There it is - Medivh’s name. How could he have not noticed?

Khadgar feels his face heat up and his hand goes to the back of his neck again; a nervous habit. The movement seems to alert Medivh of his presence, as the professor turns his heads and meets Khadgar’s eyes.

As quickly as it happens, it ends as Medivh continues his lecture without missing a beat.

It is halfway through the lecture that Medivh starts talking about their paper and the selection of a novel.

Medivh is innovative in his teachings, as he tells the class that he, too, will be reading alongside them and share his thoughts on his own chosen novel.

As Medivh reads a part from chapter one of the novel, Khadgar freezes.

It is an except from _The Last Guardian_.

For the rest of the lecture, Khadgar’s heart pounds - and not for the mere reasons of discovering that Medivh was the one who he bumped into that day, that it was Medivh who sniped the last book from under his nose, that Medivh was the one who took his usual spot at the coffee shop, and that Medivh was the one who gifted him with another rare copy of _The Last Guardian_.

 

* * *

 

After the lecture, and after the rest of the students file out of the auditorium, Khadgar remains in his seat. He watches Medivh for a while before approaching him on the stage.

“Khadgar,” Medivh greets him. “Did you know, in the old dwarven language, your name means ‘Trust’?”

Khadgar shakes his head.

“And my name, in high elven, means ‘Keeper of Secrets,’” Medivh continues, looking away with a saddened expression. “Young Trust, it appears that we do live up to our namesakes.”

The words resonate across the stage and to an empty audience, but Khadgar simply gives Medivh a soft smile before reaching out to him and giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I don’t speak dwarven,” Khadgar says, letting go. “And I don’t speak high elven. But I’d like to learn the secrets of those languages… over coffee.”

  
Medivh smiles at Khadgar, and the room becomes warm and cozy again.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a visit to my favourite bookstore. I really wanted to get a hardcopy of the 'Lord of the Clans' and 'War Crimes' novels, but someone had already bought them. How dare. And who even buys hardcopies of old novels nowadays anyway (besides myself)? I'm still shocked. Poor Khadgar, though. 'The Last Guardian' is actually an even rarer novel. 
> 
> If you've enjoyed this Raventrust story, then please feel free to read my other one, titled, 'Perchance of Romanticism' :>


End file.
